


In My Bones

by daltoneering



Series: Werewolves Verse [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, D/s, M/M, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-24 01:25:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2563118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daltoneering/pseuds/daltoneering
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt is the alpha of his pack of werewolves and lord of his woodland hall. Little does he expect his life to change in the form of a terrified and scrawny runaway wolf. For the Klaine Bingo prompt "mates."</p>
            </blockquote>





	In My Bones

Before it all started, Kurt used to love the chilly descent into fall, the shortening days and increase in opportunities to dress in as many layers as possible. He was cold-blooded, and relished the turning of the seasons and the arrival of winter.

But that was before he had been integrated into the pack. Before his father had announced him as his successor. Before his first turning.

Now, the arrival of November means chopping wood and salting meat and digging up the last vegetables for the winter, preparing the huge wooden hall where the pack resides for the certain snowstorms and freezing drafts that ravage the area come December. It means less woodland animals around to hunt, less berries on the trees, fewer trips to the town on the far side of the forest. Now fall means long, gruelling days and a chill settling deep in his bones.

The first morning arrives when Kurt wakes up and there is snow outside the window. He pulls on a pair of thick hide leggings and fur-lined coat and goes out to start the day.  
The moon is waxing, and the tug at the fibres that make him wolf grows stronger every day. Only a week more now and the pack will go out on their last run before the storms hit. He ignores the beast whispering at the back of his mind and carries on swinging the blunted axe at the heavy chunk of wood.

There’s a howl on the far side of their clearing, so quiet he almost puts it down to the wind in the trees. But he hears it again, slightly louder now, and it’s close enough to the full moon that he can tell that it’s definitely someone like him--though not a call he recognises. He drops the axe onto the frost-hardened ground and straightens up, glancing around the treeline for the source of the noise.

Suddenly there’s a loud growl and a wolf comes catapulting out of the undergrowth towards him, claws digging into the snowy grass as he hurtles across the clearing. Kurt can strongly sense the fear and panic rushing off him, and the wolf inside longs to turn, the bring this intruder down and close his jaw around his throat.

The other wolf sees him, and suddenly slows, scrambling to a halt just in front of the wood store cabin and turning to look back at the forest. Kurt watches him, wary. He’s small for a wolf, patchy brown and black, with huge golden eyes. He can’t sense any malice coming off him, and steps cautiously forwards.

The wolf cowers before him, still twitching nervously, one ear pricked back towards the trees and tail between his legs. It doesn’t take much for the the alpha part of his brain to pick up interest, and he has a sudden vision of the wolf pinned whining underneath him, head back and throat exposed. Definitely an omega, then.

“Hello,” Kurt says, still keeping a few feet between them. “Who are you?”

The wolf whines a little, and steps back slowly.

“Please,” Kurt says gently, “I’m not going to hurt you. Just--change, and we can talk?”

The wolf hesitates, big golden eyes looking up at him with such apprehension that Kurt almost feels like he should kneel down, but then shifts, fur rippling as it’s replaced with dirty, tan skin and a small man is curled up before him.

His limbs are too thin and his ribs are showing and his hair is matted. But he has the most beautiful eyes Kurt has ever seen.

He’s naked and shivering, so Kurt is quick to shrug off his coat and wrap it around his shoulders, careful to give him his space. He kneels down in front of him, oblivious to the snow soaking his leggings, and speaks in a low voice.

“What’s your name?”

“B-Blaine.”

Blaine ducks his head immediately after speaking, as if looking Kurt in the eye for any longer will curse him. Kurt licks his lips anxiously and tries to ignore the prickling at the back of his neck that means his wolf wants to go full alpha.

“Blaine. I’m Kurt. Are you--running from someone?”

“Hunters,” Blaine breathes, eyes still downcast. Kurt nods, understanding. The hunters, as they call themselves, are trained up lumberjacks and farm workers who believe that werewolves and any other creature outside of the ordinary should be slaughtered. He looks up and employs the best of his heightened hearing to determine if they are still in the area; for now, the coast seems to be clear.

“Alright. Would you like to come inside? You can have a bath and sit by the fire, warm up a bit.”

Blaine nods shakily, and Kurt helps him to his feet, pulling his coat tight around his shoulders and guiding him to the side door that leads into the kitchen gardens.

Inside, there is a deer roasting on the spit, and Carole is busy preparing vegetables at the large wooden table in the center of the kitchen. She looks up, concerned, when Kurt and Blaine walk in, and carefully puts her knife down.

“Boil some water, please,” Kurt asks, already guiding Blaine towards a flight of stairs. “There’s a bathtub in my room. As soon as possible.”

“Of course.” She immediately turns to find a kettle and Kurt shows Blaine up the stairs.

Being the alpha, his bedroom is the largest, at the far end of the corridor on the second floor. He sits Blaine down on his bed and searches through a chest to find him some clothes and a blanket until the bath is ready.

Blaine scrambles into the garments and gently wraps himself in the blanket, eyeing the room wearily. Kurt has no great wealth, but he tries to keep the place neat and tidy.

“Are you injured at all?” he asks.

Blaine looks at him as though startled. “Um. My--my left leg. Hurts a bit. Other than that, no, I don’t think so.”

“Okay.” He hears a knock on the door and goes to let Carole in, burdened with two very large steaming kettles, Finn behind her carrying another and a large tub of water. They fill the bath together and leave a fluffy blanket for Blaine to wrap himself in when clean. Finn eyes him cautiously the whole time, but Carole ushers him out the door as soon as possible and they’re left alone again.

Kurt looks away as Blaine climbs into the warm water, only turning around again once he’s sure there are enough bubbles from the soap to avoid embarrassment. He perches on the edge of the bed and smooths out the blanket with his hand, letting Blaine get settled.

“Thank you,” Blaine says quietly after a while, running water over his arms and slowly turning the bathtub grey. “For, um, this.”

“No worries,” Kurt replies. “So… you said you were being chased by hunters?”

Blaine nods.

“For how long?”

“About a week now. They caught up with me when I made the stupid decision to stop to sleep one night.”

“So you haven’t--? Okay. Um, you can get some rest once you’re clean. And fed. And we’ll find you some proper clothes.”

“Thank you. You don’t need to.”

Kurt remains silent, because, yes he does. He would have to have been some kind of cold-hearted murderer to leave Blaine out in the cold like that.

“Where are you from?”

“Stonecroft. I was… Um, I got bitten about two moons ago.”

“Oh. Did you have anyone--”

“I ripped my entire family to pieces without even blinking an eyelid.”

Blaine doesn’t even twitch as he says it, just keeps on staring at the murky bathwater in front of him, as if he were merely commenting on the weather. Kurt’s heart goes out to him, his inner wolf pacing to be let out so that he can cuddle and lick and dominate this poor, helpless boy.

“Let me go and find you some clothes that might fit,” Kurt offers. Blaine nods but doesn’t look up at him.

By the time he gets back with a few things from Artie’s bedroom, Blaine is wrapped in the blanket left for him and standing dripping in the middle of the room. The awkwardness from a few minutes ago seems to have dissipated a little, so Kurt turns around to let him change and peers out the window at the clearing below.

“No sign of any hunters,” he says. Blaine walks up next to him and looks out too. He cleans up very well, Kurt notes. The wolf inside him is humming, pacing for a moment of freedom.

“Come on,” says Kurt. “Let’s go get you some food.”

*

By the time five days have passed, Blaine already feels like he could fit in easily here.

Kurt’s pack is overall very welcoming towards him, sympathetic to his story and eager to show him around. Of course, no one except Kurt knows what he did, who he really is. A beast. A murderer. A monster.

He gets his own room just along from Kurt’s, and it’s the most comfortable bed he’s ever slept in. There’s a view over the forest and to the mountains beyond, and a chest now nearly half-full of clothes that actually fit him, and only a quick flight of stairs down to the main hall and kitchens.

It’s nearly the full moon now, and the pack is brimming with it. Living with a group of werewolves, he’s discovered that the urge to change is not the only drive that the moon awakes. Over the past week, he’s walked in on a busy couple four times, accidentally almost used a vial of lubricant oil on his hair, and… it’s starting to affect him, too.

Because the alpha of the pack is the most beautiful, powerful and sexy werewolf he’s ever met.

Under the surface, he’s pretty sure that his attraction to Kurt is mostly his wolf talking--but there’s just something about him, about the way he moves and talks and the little glances he’ll give Blaine across a crowded room of people, that sets his insides on fire. Blaine wants to fling himself at his feet, prostrate himself as an offering, lie back and bare his throat as far as it’ll go. Kurt is restrained but not oblivious, Blaine’s sure. The moon must be affecting him too, and by now Blaine knows that there is no one else in the pack who might distract Kurt’s attentions.

The day of the full moon he wakes up sweating, rolling in his bed and half-consciously attempting to rut against the mattress to relieve himself. His wolf is right there, just behind his eyes, and it’s dizzying to the point where he feels he could shift if even something brushed him the wrong way.

Looking out of the window, he sees there are already a couple of wolves out running in the clearing, jumping on each other and rolling around in the snow. He chuckles to himself and his wolf leaps inside him, eager to go out and play.

He’s not sure what the protocol is for changing--whether to do it in his room or strip off downstairs and shift there. Deciding to prefer privacy, he peels off the leggings he sleeps in and lets his wolf take over.

Suddenly, the world is new and exciting and there are smells everywhere, in his room and in the corridor and drifting up from the main hall. He bounds out the doorway and down the stairs, outside outside outside, to where he can smell cold and forest and winter on the air.

The two other wolves bound up to him, and the little human that’s left in his brain recognises them as Finn and Puck, so he happily joins in, frolicking around the clearing and rolling around in the snow. It feels so good on his fur, soft and cold and wet. Finn leaps on top of him but Blaine rolls him over easily, nipping at his neck scruff and pawing at his belly. Puck joins them and it’s all fun fun fun until there’s a low growl and he feels submission wrack through his bones, rolling him off Finn and low to the ground.

In front of the hall stands a huge, white wolf, proud and majestic and alpha alpha alpha. Blaine tries to make himself as small as possible, because no wolf is worthy to even come up to the hackles of this king, not even be as high as his strong chest.

Blaine feels a force roll through him as the wolf steps forward towards him. He whimpers and rolls onto his back, baring his neck as the white wolf sniffs the air before leaning his head down and gently placing his jaw over Blaine’s throat. Blaine stills immediately, looking up into those familiar blue eyes, in complete submission. A strange tingle raises at his hackles, but he doesn’t understand it, not now, not when all that matters is Kurt.

Kurt eventually releases him and steps back to look at his pack that has assembled on the clearing. He howls once, and bounds off into the woods.

*

The thrill of the hunt is one of the things Kurt loves the most about his wolf form. The blurred colours as trees and rocks rush by them, the scent on the wind, the pounding of his pack alongside him.

They’re headed towards the lake where they usually stop, a secluded but beautiful area where they can dally the day away on the beach and in the nearby forest. He reaches out with his mind and finds Beiste, tells him to take some of them to find food while he directs Blaine and the younger members of the pack. He still finds communicating as a wolf hard--he knows that for newly turned wolves, it’s practically impossible--but he’s mostly mastered a decent grip on his human mind while in wolf form by now.

He sees Beiste and about half of the group leave the trail, dark blurring shapes in the trees getting more and more distant. One of the pups behind him yelps, and he slows to a gentler canter, letting them catch up and catch their breath.

Blaine is at the back of the pack somewhere with the other omegas, but Kurt does his best to call him forward--it must work, because eventually Blaine is loping alongside him, dappled fur disguising him in the flashes of sunlight between the leaves. His tongue is lolling out and he looks very content. Kurt bumps his shoulder gently with his snout and does his best to grin.

They arrive at the lake and Kurt is almost immediately bombarded by all the pups, jumping on him and pawing at his fur and rolling around on the sandy beach. Blaine seems to think it would be a good idea to join in too, and lands on top of him with a loud woof and what is most definitely a grin. 

The pups soon get distracted by the sunlight glinting on the water’s surface and Blaine and Kurt are left rolling around on their own, growling and nipping at each other until suddenly Kurt has Blaine pinned and a whole other kind of excitement takes over.

Blaine shifts underneath him, but Kurt growls, holding him still and lowering his nose to his bared neck. Here, Blaine smells like earth and wolf and submission. Kurt nips gently, not quite sure what to do. He’s never been in this position before, not--like this. Not when there’s a word whispering at the back of his mind about what this might be, not when simply having Blaine’s wolf underneath him is igniting his very soul, not when even in his human form every fibre of his being pulls him towards this man. No, definitely not like this.

Suddenly there’s a loud crash as Beiste’s big grey wolf bursts out onto the beach, dead deer clutched between his teeth. The rest of the pack follows.

Kurt’s just going to have to wait until later to figure out his feelings.

*

Blaine wakes up blearily, not quite sure where he is, still half dreaming about running through a forest with a white blur at his side. There’s something very warm pressed against him, and he snuggles into it, hand dragging across bare skin and eyes drifting shut again.

Wait. Bare skin.

He opens his eyes properly, but his face is smushed into someone’s chest, and--

Oh no. That’s definitely Kurt, and he’s definitely naked.

Blaine looks down at himself and is shocked to see that he’s in the same position. He can’t have--surely he would remember--

“Dude, chill out.” Blaine looks up and is even more surprised to see Finn sitting a few feet away, apparently equally naked, with a blanket pulled up over his lap. Blaine glances around and notices several other sleeping forms, mostly naked, and blushes hard. Finn tosses him a blanket from the pile and Blaine gratefully uses it to cover himself, and Kurt too.

“What--why is everyone asleep naked in the main hall?”

Finn chuckles. “Post-moon napping,” he whispers. “We usually just crash in wolf form when we get back. You shift in your sleep and wake up human.”

“And naked.”

“Yeah. It can be a bit a bit awkward the first couple of times, but most of us here are used to it.”

“Uhuh.” Rachel rolls over on the floor next to Finn, sleepy hand grabbing at his thigh, and Finn winks at Blaine before lying back down next to her.

Blaine looks down at Kurt’s sleeping form. He looks absolutely beautiful, stretched out on his back in the pale morning light, one arm tossed above his head and the other still splayed out from where it had been curled around Blaine. Blaine allows himself a smile, settling down next to him again, cautious not to wake him.

There’s definitely something between them, he’s sure. He doesn’t know quite what it is, but it’s tethered him to Kurt and he’s not really sure he wants to let go.

*

The week after the full moon, Blaine starts acting differently around Kurt. Before, he was shy, quiet, reserved. Now, he’s openly submissive, dropping his eyes whenever Kurt walks by, choosing to sit on the floor next to him in the main hall, kneeling and bowing his head and baring his neck.

But he’s also more affectionate, too. They go out for a run together, just the two wolves, and when they stop by a river Blaine slides his snout under Kurt’s chin and keeps it there until they get up again. He sits close to him at dinner, thighs brushing under the table. He even brings Kurt a mug of warmed ale one evening, sitting next to him on his bed and tucking his head into his shoulder.

Kurt knows what it is. He’s almost sure. And if what Burt had told him was true, Blaine was finally settling into his role as omega and needed someone to--placate him. And he had chosen Kurt.

Kurt is busy doing his nighttime preparations when there’s a gentle knock at the door, barely loud enough to hear. It’s late, and few people would be knocking on his door at this hour. Kurt glances down at himself--he’s shirtless, but still has his hide leggings on, decent enough, and goes to answer the door.

Blaine is standing outside in a simple long white nightshirt, legs bare and hair mussed. He blinks at Kurt blearily in the dim light from the candles in the corridor, and Kurt’s heart melts at the sight of him.

“Hey.”

“Um, I--” He pauses, catches his breath. “Please, I just need--”

“Come inside,” says Kurt gently, ushering Blaine through the door and shutting it behind him. Blaine wanders around, looking a little lost, before turning to Kurt and dropping to his knees in the middle of the floor.

Kurt pauses with his hand still on the door handle, because if Blaine wasn’t being subtle before, he most certainly isn’t now.

“Oh.”

Blaine breathes in deeply, and Kurt realises he’s shaking.

“Please, Kurt, need, need something--”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Kurt goes over to him, squatting down to face him and resting a hand on his neck. Blaine leans into the touch, eyes fluttering shut. “What do you want?”

“Anything--just--hold me down, make me--”

“Okay. Come on, on the bed.”

Blaine scrambles to his feet and onto Kurt’s bed, lying down on his stomach and wrapping his arms around a pillow. The image of him there, stretched out for him and in his territory, makes Kurt’s wolf roar, desperate to grab and push and bite and fuck. But Kurt tamps it down, tries to stay calm, and steps over to the bed.

“Can I lie on top of you, would that help?” he asks softly. Blaine makes a whining noise and nods, so Kurt straddles his thighs before lowering his chest down against Blaine’s back, sliding his hands up his arms to hold his wrists and pin him down to the bed. Underneath him, Blaine goes soft like putty.

“Just relax,” Kurt whispers, letting his eyes slip shut and tucking his face in the dip of Blaine’s shoulder. “I’m here, you’re okay.”

Blaine’s quiet for a while, but then there’s a heavy sob, and his body jerks underneath him, hands clenching in the blankets. He sobs again, and again, until he’s properly crying, tears streaming down his face and onto the pillow.

“Hey, shh, it’s okay.” Kurt rubs over Blaine’s wrists, planting a soft kiss to his neck. “Would you like me to move?”

“No no no no please Kurt--”

“Okay, I won’t, don’t worry.” He shifts his weight over Blaine, pressing him further into the mattress. Another heavy sob wracks Blaine’s body. “Come on, honey, match your breathing to mine. That’s right.”

Kurt lies there until the tears on Blaine’s face are dry and his breathing has evened out, pressing gentle kisses along his neck and jawline. Blaine’s eyes are half-shut, his face soft and open.

“Feeling better?” Kurt murmurs.

“Mm,” replies Blaine.

Kurt waits until Blaine is showing signs of coming back to himself to move, sitting up slowly and pulling his floppy body against his chest. Blaine curls up there like a lost child, one hand gently tracing over his arm.

“You want to talk?”

Blaine is silent for a while, seemingly content to just sit and be. But then he shifts and tucks his face over Kurt’s shoulder, lips brushing his ear. “Wolves aren’t monsters, are we.”

Kurt is a little taken aback by the topic, but doesn’t show it. “No, we’re not. Although some people think we are.”

“Mm.” Blaine lifts a finger up and runs it along Kurt’s jawline, tracing the shape of his ear. “But then why did I do that to my family?”

Kurt doesn’t answer immediately. “You had only just been turned. A wolf at his first full moon is very unstable. And more so if you had no one to support you.”

“I didn’t. Not like you.” Kurt smiles and kisses Blaine’s shoulder gently. “What is it, this thing between us, Kurt? Is it a just wolf thing, or something more?”

Kurt manoeuvres Blaine back so that he can look him in the eyes. “What do you want it to be?”

Blaine blushes and ducks his head. “I think you already know the answer to that question.”

“Me too,” Kurt says after a moment, and Blaine looks up at him like he hung the moon in the sky. “It’s special. You’re special.”

It’s tentative, but Blaine leans forwards, hands brushing over Kurt’s chest, noses bumping, hot breath and fluttering eyelashes--

When their lips touch, it’s like his first transformation all over again. Kurt gasps, head swimming, and pulls Blaine towards him, fingers sinking into his unruly curls and over his jaw. Blaine is gripping his shoulders, deepening the kiss, and it feels like every point of contact between them is on fire. Blaine whines, licking at Kurt’s mouth and panting against him, body squirming as Kurt sucks at his lower lip, tugging it between his teeth and sliding his tongue over the soft bow of Blaine’s mouth. 

When they part for air, both are panting heavily, foreheads pressed together and eyes closed. “Oh my God,” whispers Kurt.

“Kurt,” breathes Blaine. “That was--”

But all Kurt can do is smile and nod and kiss him again, because he’s heard that kiss described so many times, he knows exactly what that was, that feeling, that sense of belonging and happiness and desire and love--

“Mate,” he breathes, and rolls Blaine over to kiss him again.


End file.
